I Can't - Nonbinary Month
by friendlyneighborhoodfairy
Summary: (Nonbinary Month 2018 #3 and 2019 #6.) Lucy has baggage about alternative gender that she just can't seem to get past. As her bff, Freed wants to see her happy, but he also hates it when she cries. {Fraxus and Lelu with gender questioning.}
1. I Can't

**A/N:** Fairy Tail + genderqueer.

This one is…tougher. Genderqueer folks can be abusive just like others.

* * *

 **I Can't**

"I can't," Lucy said. "I just can't, Freed."

Lucy's face was red; he could see frustration, fear, and shame at war there—even anger, though he knew it wasn't at him.

"Darling, I think you can," he said. "But only if you want to."

As Lucy's head drooped, he sighed and put a hand on their—on her—shoulder.

"Wouldn't using the right pronoun…make you feel better?" he asked.

" 'They' will always be _them,_ " Lucy said, voice harsh and hollow. "I don't ever want to be reminded of them, let alone be like them."

"I'm sorry for challenging you," Freed said, knowing when he'd pushed enough. "I hate seeing you all…contorted around your identity. I hate seeing you hurting so much."

"Thanks," Lucy smiled at him. "You're the best kind of friend, and it's okay—I know you're just trying to take care of me. And I'm not hurting, Freed."

That, he knew, was a lie. Plainer than anything else on Lucy's face was how much pain she was in.

Sighing, he asked, "When's Lev getting back?"

"Two days." Lucy's expression gained the hint of a smile. "Book club just isn't the same without her."

"Book club with just you is still wonderful," Freed said. "But _you_ are happier with your girlfriend around."

Lucy grinned. "Wouldn't anyone be?"

Freed's soft smile admitted he knew exactly what Lucy meant.

Rising, he stretched his legs and helped himself to more tea—the women's flat had long since become a second home to him. He'd helped the pair move here, as well as into their last place, back when the two first moved in together. In fact, he took partial responsibility for them dating.

Having moved past their distressing talk of gender, Freed was surprised when Lucy called, "What got you thinking about pronouns?"

"The book," he said. "I know it's not explicit, but the Jane character clearly has issues with her gender identity."

Lucy looked intrigued.

"What makes you say that?"

"Her behavior." Leaning in the doorframe, he sipped his tea. "Going to the cabaret, and the way she watches the women… I know it's a book about 1800s lesbians, but Jane isn't the same as the protagonist. Isobelle wears men's attire but strips out of it as soon as she's with a woman; she wants to be a woman loving another woman. But Jane… When she finds a pretty woman, she becomes even more masculine. She hates it that time when her date realizes she's not a man. I think in our world, Jane would be trans or at least gender-non-conforming."

"She reminds me," Lucy said slowly, "of Algernon from that book a few months ago. What you said about watching women: at the jazz club, he watches the singer just as his friends do, but he wants to _be_ her, not be _with_ her. It's about...finding in her a definition for who he is."

"Right!" Freed said. "I think Jane is the same way. She hopes to contrast herself against other women's femininity to define herself as a masculine person."

"They had awfully strict gender roles," Lucy said sadly. "Back then, and for so much of history… I know history is told by the straight white male conquerors, but even though there were a lot more smart, strong, empowered queers and women and brown folks, it was hard and people were invisible."

"Yeah," he said. "It's _still_ hard."

"Not as much."

Freed paused. He didn't want to upset her again. But she didn't appear to be internalizing this conversation.

"I disagree," he said. "I think gender roles are just as restrictive. Do you know what Cana told me the other day? She told me she's a strong woman and so she needs a hypermasculine boyfriend to make up for it. Not only does that suck for her—I suspect that even with the most masc boyfriend, she would end up forcing herself to be more feminine; it also puts pressure on men to be hypermasculine. When very few are. Maybe none. I have a hard time believing any human is legitimately hypermasculine—our definition of masculinity has become so messed-up and inhuman…"

"You found one," Lucy teased. "Have you seen your boyfriend?"

"Laxus? Hypermasculine my ass," Freed laughed. "He cries at every movie we watch. He cried watching _Captain America: Civil War._ "

"That's kind of adorable."

"It's totally adorable. And he's not the least ashamed of it. Not to mention he's far more touchy-feely than masc folks are 'supposed' to be. And he's…well, he's just not like that. Stiff, repressed, violent. He doesn't care what people think of him—not after everything that happened. That's why I fell in love with him."

"Okay, you're right, I'm sorry. He's a lot more than muscles."

"Not saying I dislike his looks," Freed added with a smile.

"Of course not." Lucy grinned. "So you're saying you think gender roles are just as repressive today as ever?"

"I think the oppression has just gone underground. We've been told we've been given our rights and privileges as queer folk, as people of color, as women, et cetera. But the actual attitudes have only changed shape. The 70s, for example, granted women sexual freedom, but we restrict women's access to birth control and STI-prevention and we label any woman who dares enjoy herself as a slut. Feminists back then won the key to unlock the door, but if you dare walk through it, you'll come away bruised and bloody."

"Ugh, that sort of shit makes me so angry," Lucy growled. "Society appeases the masses, makes us think we're getting what we want, but really…they're just putting up different walls to block us. Like the fucking erasure of Marsha and Sylvia and every other LGBTQ person who doesn't look like a white, cisgender 'normal' person that the cishets approve of."

Freed inhaled sharply in shared anger. "Truth."

He also hated the idea that activism wouldn't get people anywhere.

"At the same time…we've made _some_ headway," he added. "The slut label isn't as heavy and impactful on one's life as it used to be. And not everyone will label a woman that way. The more women walk through the door, the more it'll be normalized and the less women will face repercussions for sleeping around."

"But we can't just _be,_ Freed." Lucy looked up at him from the couch, face sincere and anguished. "None of us, outside the norm…we live our lives fighting. We can't just live."

"No. Not yet."

She pulled in on herself, back straight and arms tight around her middle.

"I feel like Algernon," she muttered.

Buzzing, Freed tilted his head. It was all Lucy needed to go on.

"I feel like I look in on women as something that's not me, but I sort of want to be. I wish I could wear the pretty dresses and sparkles and frilliness. And then I remember that I can—that society _wants_ me to, values me more highly when I do. And then suddenly," Lucy said, voice growing stronger, "I don't want to be feminine anymore. Suddenly, I hate it. I hate all the pretty, lacy, sparkly things. I despise them because they're just…a cage now, when I look at the world as someone born female. When femininity is expected of me, suddenly I want to be anything else."

"Do you really?" he asked. "Want to be anything else?"

He was stiff against the doorjam, intent and focused, knowing they were on the edge of new truths. Approaching something which he could tell Lucy had never said aloud before.

"No," she said in a tiny voice. "I don't. I want to be feminine…and more."

There it was.

She'd never given him a word. Just said things—usually late at night when they were tired and facades came down; about how she didn't feel like a woman; about how she wasn't 'feminine,' how it didn't fit, made her uncomfortable. How being called 'Miz' made her uncomfortable.

But she'd never spoken a label for what she felt.

"What kind of more?" he asked softly.

"Anything. I just don't want to be what _They_ want me to be. Whoever _They_ are. You know what I mean. I don't want to be their concept of a woman. I don't want to be their anything. I want to be…"

Lucy inhaled and ran her hands over her face.

"I don't know what I want to be, Freed."

 _Are you sure you don't know?_ He wanted to say it. It was on the tip of his tongue. But she was one of his best friends, and he knew how much that question would hurt her, and even if she needed to hear it, he just couldn't bear to be the one to ask.

"I wish," she sniffed, "they hadn't taken it from me."

Her sniffle made him jerk. Striding over, he sat beside her, reached for her, and rubbed her back.

"I wish they hadn't been an asshole," she said. "I wish I hadn't dated them. I wish they hadn't done everything they did, and I wish I hadn't let them. I wish a lot of things." Lucy wiped her eyes. "But one of the biggest: I wish they hadn't taken 'genderqueer' and twisted it and soiled it and made it something I don't ever, ever want to be."

"Oh, Lu." He put an arm around her and drew her close. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't say that. You h-helped me get away," she swallowed. "You gave me…a fucking place to _stay,_ Freed. You don't ever have to be sorry. You're the reason I was able to leave."

"I know, darling," he kissed her hair, "but I'm still sorry it all happened. I wish I could've…done more."

Shoulders shaking, Lucy put her face in her hands and leaned into him, wet sounds muffled in her palms. A tear slid down Freed's cheek.

"I'm sorry they took everything, Lu. I'm sorry they took this. But that doesn't mean you can't take it back."

"I can't," she hiccoughed, "I just can't. That pronoun is theirs. They held that over me so many times. How awfully the world treated them for being a _them._ How we were going to go out in public anyway and be our obviously queer selves, because fuck them all. How I needed to protect them and shield them from the comments and stares, and if I didn't, if they felt hurt at all, it was all my fault and I was a terrible partner.

"How as a mere lesbian I could never possibly understand everything they'd been through. I wasn't being understanding, and I needed to be more patient and loving because they were fragile." She spat the words. "I wasn't allowed to feel hurt, _ever._ I wasn't allowed to be insulted. I wasn't allowed to find fault with them. Any bad encounter in my day, they would suddenly have a problem ten times bigger that trumped mine and forced me to backburner my pain.

"It fucking sucked, and I don't think I'll ever get over it, even with Levy, even with my life so amazing like it is now. Geezes, sometimes I still think about how I'll never get my grandma's knit comforter back, or—or my uni sweatshirt. Or Nekochan. I'll never f-fucking see Nekochan again. I _loved_ that cat. She was the best. Even when I finally left, I lost. They made sure that I never, ever won. Ever."

Body shaking, Lucy curled into his side, face pressed into her knees, contorted so tightly that her arms shook and her knuckles turned white. Holding her, Freed rocked back and forth. He hated feeling her cries jerking her body, hated that there was nothing he could say that would make it better.

He couldn't even say she'd gotten away with her skin, because she'd shown up on his doorstep with her cheek bruised purple and her lip bleeding. She never mentioned that part, couldn't talk about it—and Freed respected that, but Laxus had heard Freed vent many times, because he _did_ need to talk about it, to express the anger which, later that night, had resulted in him putting a hole through their bedroom wall.

"It's isn't fair," Lucy whispered, shuddering. "It just isn't fair."

It wasn't.

Laxus had used his size for good and gone back to Lucy's shared flat to get her things—essentials like her computer. They all agreed Lucy should not go, even with him and Freed for protection. Her ex had made things so difficult they could only get the one load, and in the end, Lucy was left with three boxes of possessions.

The days after had been damage control. Freed took the week off. Lucy's name wasn't on the lease (another way her partner sought to control her), thank gods, but the bitch had gone and done the unthinkable and lost Lucy her job.

She'd had nothing. She'd had to start over from zero.

It had led to now: Lucy clerking at law firm for fantastic pay and living with her amazing girlfriend who loved her so much and didn't cut her off from her friends or cajole her into sex when she didn't want to. (Gods, Freed had hated that bastard. He still did. There were some things he didn't think he needed to forgive.) Her life now was happy and heading in good directions. But back then, it had felt like the beginning of the end. Back then, Freed lived in fear of Lucy hurting herself, or her ex coming while he and Laxus were at work and…

They'd all lived in fear for a long time.

And so Freed understood if the label or pronouns that fit Lucy best made her deeply anxious. Lu had terrible associations, and he wouldn't underestimate the psychological power of that. He didn't like it, but he understood.

He also suspected that Lucy's ex had gaslighted her into suppressing much of her genderqueerness. Perhaps why she was only now starting to reemerge into those traits of hers, and why it shook her so deeply when she did.

Lucy was still crying in his lap, now in the deep, wrenching sobs that would last a long, long time. As he pulled her into a more comfortable position, he kissed her head and murmured that it would be alright.

It would be. But it was also okay if she didn't believe that right now. He would keep saying it. That's what you did for those you loved.

Retrieving his phone from the table, Freed texted Laxus.

* * *

Sometime later, there was a knock at the door. Lucy's heart sped up, the fear right there within her reach. Still so close, after so many years.

But she was safe here.

In her exhausted post-cry state, she made a small sound of confusion against Freed's shoulder.

"Ah. Just a minute," Freed said, disentangling from her.

He returned a moment later with a hulking and familiar figure.

"Dinner's here," Freed said.

"H-Hey Laxus," Lucy whispered, waving feebly.

"Hey." He gave her a kind smile. "You still like General Tso's chicken, right?"

She sighed contentedly. "You're the best."

"Lu," Freed called from the kitchen, "chopsticks or fork?"

"Spoon. I can't use chopsticks in this state."

While Freed served self and boyfriend, Laxus brought Lucy's plate over and sat across from her on the sofa.

"You doing okay?"

"I'll survive." She gave him a wet and grateful smile. "Did he tell you the movie?"

"Just that there would be one."

"I picked Frozen," she said. "Predictably."

He grinned. "The Lucy classic."

This actually got a little laugh out of her. She began to eat, and soon the three of them were perched on her sofa with tea and cheap Chinese food, the quiet sounds of satiating hunger filling the room.

"I texted Levy," Freed said, grabbing the TV remote. "By the way."

"Thanks."

"She said to tell you she loves you very much and will be home soon."

A tiny bit of warmth returned to her. Oh Lev. "She's the best."

"Best thing that ever came out of Freed's reading habit is your relationship," Laxus said.

Freed swatted him before settling more comfortably between them, the three of them squeezed together in warmth and closeness.

"I like this," Lucy sighed as the opening music began to roll.

During _Love is an Open Door,_ to which Freed hummed along, Laxus took Lucy's empty plate and passed her the other thing he'd brought. Chocolate. She shot him a thumbs-up and curled closer to Freed's side.

A shrill ring caused the frantic scramble for the remote. They were halfway through _Let It Go_ and Lucy was crying again as she always did (it was a song about coming out, after all, wasn't it?), as was Laxus. Finally finding the pause button, Freed grabbed his phone and announced, "It's Levy," before picking up. "Hello?"

Watching this one-sided conversation with eager eyes, Lucy leaned closer and closer the longer it took, until she was staring at him with comically large eyes. Looking over, he cracked up.

"Sorry, Levy—I need to hand the phone to your girlfriend or I'm going to get skinned."

Beaming, Lucy snatched the proffered device.

"Lev?"

"Hullo, beautiful. Are you doing okay?"

The voice on the other end was the best thing Lucy had heard. It almost launched her right back into crying.

"Yeah," she said automatically. "No. I feel like shit. I miss you."

"I miss you too," Levy said longingly. "The conference is big-ass boring."

"I thought you liked big asses?"

There was a giggle-snort. "The one I like isn't here with me."

Lucy bit her lip, somber in spite of herself. "I wish."

"Me too. Love…if you need anything, you just have to ask. You know that, right?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"What on earth for? Crying shit out is healthy. I just wish I were there to cry with you."

That got a watery laugh.

"You would, too. It's what I love about you." Lucy sighed. "Come home soon, Lev. I hate sleeping without you."

"Seconded. The bed is so big."

When they ended the call, Lucy handed the phone back with regret.

"She shouldn't be allowed to go on business trips," she grumbled.

"Nobody should," Laxus called from the kitchen, where he was making more tea. "It's criminal to partners."

Freed rolled his eyes. "You act like I _like_ it."

"I know you don't, but your boss sure seems to. Are you sure she's not homophobic? She seems awfully set on keeping us apart."

"We haven't had date night in a month," Freed told Lucy mournfully. "I keep getting called in for overnights."

"I thought the point of working with dead languages was that you didn't have to do things like that?"

"Normally it is. There's no such thing as a life-threatening translation emergency when everyone who spoke the language has been dead thousands of years. But new pieces keep coming in and she seems to think the museum will be upset if we have a piece for more than twenty-four hours without at least identifying the language and subject matter."

"You're too fucking smart," Laxus muttered, returning to the sofa.

"Are you saying that's a problem?" Freed laughed.

Grinning at him, Laxus gave a teasing shrug.

"Oh, boo. I'm playing the movie now," Freed retorted.

Their banter was so comfortable. So familiar. Lucy felt like she could sink into it and find home there.

When at last ice-loving sisters were reunited and all bad guys vanquished, Freed turned off the TV and Lucy put her head on his shoulder.

"Fuck, how late is it?" she yawned.

Laxus glanced at his watch. "Nine."

"I'm so tired."

"Me too," Freed admitted.

They rose to clean up dinner, all three of them bumping elbows comfortably in the small space. The silence was thoughtful, Lucy trying to figure out whether to put her request to them or not. She needed to be around people.

"Guys," Lucy said slowly as she put the last plate in the dishwasher. "Can I…come home with you? Is that alright?"

"Absolutely," Laxus said immediately.

"Levy already told me to offer," Freed said. "So you wouldn't have to be alone."

Hugging him close, Lucy murmured, "Thank you. So much. For everything."

"Always."

She grabbed a few things and they crammed into Laxus's tiny Fiesta for the short trip to the Justine-Dreyar flat.

The place always smelled clean and like comfort to Lucy. As Laxus pulled out the sofa bed, she turned to Freed and pulled him into another tight, long embrace.

"Thanks for everything you said," she said.

"I meant every word. We all love you however you are. However you look, however you feel. We really do love you."

Lucy sniffed. "Thanks. And about the pronouns… I think…you might be right. I don't know. I just hate thinking about it. I know that's not going to help me find an answer. I just don't know anything."

"You don't have to know," Laxus said. "It's okay not to. Or to not want to."

Pulling back, Lucy nodded and wiped her face.

"I do want to. But I think maybe I want to deal with my other stuff first? I know you won't like this," she looked at Freed, "but having you guys makes it easier for me to _not_ deal with gender right now. Because you guys just see me as me, I don't feel like I'm pretending or being forced into something I don't fit."

"I'm _glad_ to hear that," Freed protested. "It's good you feel comfortable enough to start learning to trust again. I think that's a totally legitimate thing to tackle first—you do not have to address all your issues at once. Use us as your safe space however long or often you need."

Lucy looked between them for a quiet, gasping moment, face filling with emotion.

"I don't deserve you guys," she said, reeling Freed back in again, feeling as if she might fall over without him. She motioned Laxus in too. The pair were family.

"This is what friends do," Freed said. "You don't have to deserve us. That's the point."

Arms around both of them, Laxus nodded agreement.

"It's why friendship was invented," he said. "So we can be little shits sometimes."

"Laxus," Freed said flatly.

But Lucy and Laxus were laughing.

"Being a shit," she said, " _or_ being a burden. And a soggy mess."

"Yup." Laxus patted her head. "But Freed's right. Not being allowed to be there for you would feel wrong for us. So thank you for letting us in."

Lucy started crying again, but this time it was happy. They held her the whole time.

* * *

 **A/N:** I love the idea of Freed, Levy, and Lucy being buddies. The final chapters of the manga where the three of them raid the guild library together in order to save their Dragon Slayers…quintessential.

Another chapter will be coming…at some point. Levy has a surprise for her partner. ^^


	2. Hello There

**Hello There**

Waking up in Laxus and Freed's living room brought back warm and comforting memories for Lucy. In the early morning, the summer light was bright and yellow, sun already up to start the day. Happily, she remembered it was Saturday.

Which meant Freed cooked breakfast.

There were quiet sounds coming from the direction of the kitchen. When she inhaled and opened her eyes, Lucy felt a peace settle over her. It was warm and safe here. She was okay.

" _Is she—I think she is."_

The sound of movement, and then—

"Hullo, smartie."

Lucy blinked at the dark eyes that met hers.

A short woman with blue curls and brown skin was leaning over grinning at her.

"Levy!"

Lucy gasped, leaping out of the covers to wrap her arms around her girlfriend, nearly knocking the smaller woman over.

"Ohh, goddess, I've missed this," Levy breathed. "It's so good to see you."

"You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow night!"

"The conference was boring." Levy made a face. "No, seriously. They didn't need me there. I told Gajeel I had a family emergency and he actually looked a little jealous."

"But…how did you get here?" Lucy exclaimed.

"Not going to just count your blessings and leave it at that?" Laxus chuckled, emerging from the bedroom in sweats.

"But…" Lucy gaped at her girlfriend.

"I picked her up," Freed called from the kitchen. They all trooped in to join him and found him in front of the stove with heavenly smells wafting around him.

"When I called last night, I told him I was going to search for a last-minute flight," Levy said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, beautiful. I didn't want to get your hopes up in case I couldn't find anything. And I kinda wanted it to be a surprise."

"Best surprise," Lucy sighed, pulling her in for another hug and not letting go of her.

Laxus seemed to agree with the cuddling idea because he curled around Freed's back, shirtless and affectionate.

"Hey!" Freed protested with a laugh, swatting his hand. "I see what you're up to. If you eat the batter before it's fully cooked, you'll get a stomachache."

"Always so responsible," Laxus grumbled.

"Someone has to be, with you around," Lucy piped up.

Grinning, Laxus tossed her a chocolate chip behind Freed's back.

* * *

Levy McGarden was gay. Attracted only to women, a fact which had consternated her friend Gajeel in the beginning of their friendship, until they figured things out and settled into platonic happiness.

She was also attracted to Lucy.

It caused her some small doubts at times—times like this, sitting around Laxus and Freed's table with friends, Lucy laughing, everything alright, when nothing was in crisis and Levy had time to inspect her internal state.

She loved Lucy deeply. From Lucy's shrill, singsong exclamations at things which annoyed her to the little laugh she let loose when she was amused, which was often. At this point, Lucy was part of her life in a very real way that would make it hard to extract her.

Levy had also built her identity on being a lesbian—the cats, the multiple degrees, the high emotional intelligence, the dressing as if a dyke and a hippy had a baby (the butch butterfly, Lucy called her).

She didn't want to let go of either of those parts of her. Both were precious to her.

It wasn't Lucy's gender identity which made her anxious; it was what that identity would inevitably look like. Lucy was so in flux right now. For now, things were fine, but there was no telling how anything would be one day.

What if the results leaned more masculine? What if Lu's preferred pronoun was 'he'?

But…at the same time, Levy hadn't ever been repulsed by Lucy's masculine days. She'd just never loved a man before.

The only people who could successfully pull her out of unspoken melancholy were Lucy and Freed. This morning they did so, talking over each other while Laxus added rumbling commentary, and making Levy laugh until her drink went up her nose.

After a breakfast full of slap-happy giggles—Laxus was sassy in the morning, and the effect was amazing—Freed drove the pair home and they hugged him at the door.

"Thanks so much for being flexible," Levy told him.

"Of course, darling."

"It's Laxus's favorite thing about him too," Lucy teased.

Freed grinned. "You are trouble."

When they said goodbye and went inside, Levy sighed, inhaling the scents of home.

"It's nice being back."

Lucy took her hand and drew her near, a question in those blue eyes.

"Levy…"

Levy heard it, curling through that tone of voice, a hook which grabbed her naval and tugged in a way that made her shiver.

"Yes, lovely?" The hitch in her voice was an answer. Assent.

When Lucy kissed her, Levy tilted her head back and groaned, already anticipating. It was a slow, exploring kiss, testing the waters. As Lucy made her way around Levy's mouth, Levy reached up and, careful not to startle her datefriend, slid the tie out of Lucy's hair. Lucy shook her short hair free, grinned at her, and leaned their foreheads together.

"You have a goal?" Levy asked, although the answer was clear: Lucy's hands were fingering Levy's waist, a thumb sliding over the buttons of her blouse.

Nodding, Lucy slipped one button free.

It went slowly, Levy panting as she watched Lucy undress her. Each garment dropped, one after another, by the arm of the sofa until the midmorning sun was gleaming across Levy's body.

Nudging them toward the couch, Levy pulled Lucy down onto the cushions, then straddled Lucy before she had a chance to do anything. Lucy was still completely clothed. Euphoric, Levy pressed herself, already wet, against Lucy's trousers. Lucy shuddered.

"I…I would like something particular," Lucy said.

"Yeah?" Levy had found Lucy's thigh, rubbing against her and getting sparks shooting up from between her legs. Panting, Levy glanced up long enough to make eye contact. "What would you like?"

After a moment of silence, Lucy dove in and kissed her, all-encompassing, sending nearly every thought out of Levy's mind. She had no concerns but what part of her Lucy would suck next.

It took her by trembling surprise when Lucy pinched her nipple, causing a squeal and another eager thrust. Still circling her breast, Lucy put her other hand between Levy's thighs. As Lucy swiped against her, Levy tilted her head back and let out a sighing cry. "Lu…"

By this point, Levy was far more turned on than she would've predicted this soon. With her eyes closed, she turned into a creature entirely of feeling.

Nails scraped over her breast, and at the same moment, a finger curled against her cunt and slid inside her.

"Ohhh," Levy groaned, flopping forward to lean her head on Lucy's shoulder. From here she could see down Lucy's shirt and she liked what she saw. She wondered distantly if Lucy would be upset that her cleavage made Levy feel hot. If Lucy wanted breasts at all. Was it okay to appreciate Lu's body if Lucy didn't like all of it herself?

Lucy's finger worked insistently inside her now, another joining and thrusting deep, each push bringing Levy's clit in contact with her palm. Fuck, that felt good. When Levy felt the fire in her body stretching out to her extremities, she lifted herself up and slammed down against Lucy's fingers.

"You're going to fuck yourself?" Lucy chuckled, panting. Levy realized Lucy was getting _incredibly_ turned on by this.

"What did you want?" Levy asked again, not sure she'd be able to hold on for whatever it was. The peak of pleasure was rolling toward her so fast.

"You first," Lucy said in a whispered growl that sent a shiver over Levy's whole body.

Lucy bit her neck in a trail down Levy's naked body, fingers hot inside her, and _goddess_ Levy couldn't think straight. When Lucy plucked at her nipple with lips and tongue, Levy fell apart, hoarse cries falling from her, vulva trembling against Lucy's hand.

"What I wanted was to do the fucking," Lucy murmured, words warm against Levy's ear. "I wanted to, uh…"

Levy's chest squeezed around fireworks of desire.

"Get it," she insisted, smile radiant. "Please do, _fuck_ yes."

They scrambled, Lucy pulling out of Levy's cunt, Levy rolling off onto the sofa cushions naked and sweaty and barely able to keep from touching herself. But she wanted this. And she loved that Lucy could admit to wanting it.

Lucy darted to the bedroom, shedding her t-shirt as she went. A second after she disappeared into the other room, she tossed her sports bra out, just to let Levy know—to get her even more eager.

Then she emerged, with straps around her thighs and waist and a rainbow-colored dildo swinging.

"Fuck," Levy whimpered, automatically spreading her legs as something throbbed. She could _feel_ herself dripping from the first orgasm, and she wanted a second.

Lucy palmed the dick and grinned. "I really want to."

Levy's mouth went dry.

"How would you like me?" she asked, voice shrill.

Lucy bit her lip timidly for a moment, even though she should know by now Levy had almost no hard limits with her.

"Turn around," Lucy said.

Levy swung around and knelt on the sofa, gripping the back. She felt warm hands slide over her ass and quivering legs. _Fuck._ It was over a week since she'd felt this coiling tension in her gut. She'd been too exhausted (and forlorn) at the conference to masturbate; and Lucy brought better orgasms out of her anyway.

Lucy gripped her hips and something poked Levy's cunt. She felt Lucy waggle around, teasing her as the dildo rubbed against her clit.

"Inside, inside," Levy panted.

"Mm, in a minute," Lucy hummed. "What about…?"

With a nudge, Levy felt her legs being pressed together, and shifted her knees to accommodate the new position. The dick was still between her, and as her muscles tightened, it pressed harder against her labia.

"Lu," Levy was groaning now. "Shit, Lu. Shit—"

Lucy thrust with her hips. The resulting friction across Levy's clit made her head come up, back arching, her nerves singing. With a cry, Levy shuddered against the pleasure.

Lucy did it again, and again, managing somehow to wedge the dildo tight against Levy's clit.

Levy was shaking hard now. Despite the burning in her body, she said, "I wanna come on it, Lu…on you. Fuck me."

Skin pressed against her back and Lucy's voice sounded in her ear.

"Yes, m'lady."

Repositioning, Lucy thrust slowly, pushing the dildo not between her legs but against her cunt. It slipped inside and went deep, deeper than Lucy clearly expected, for she said, "Sorry, I went too fast."

"Nuh, too slow," Levy groaned. "I'm wet, you can do it, you can…fuck…"

Lucy's hips curled back and snapped forward again, filling her cunt. They hit a rhythm quickly, Levy meeting her, the muscles of Lucy's legs tensing every time they connected. Bending over her again, Lucy wrapped her arms around Levy's middle to caress her stomach.

This angle put pressure on Levy's clit, and she gasped with her mouth hanging open.

It was a little like what she imagined straight sex might be like, but at the same time, it was nothing like it. She was feeling pleasure, for one thing, which she understood from her straight lady friends didn't always happen without concerted effort. Maybe it was because they had the same anatomy, or maybe because Lucy was kind, or maybe because _they had a functional and realistic relationship, thank you,_ but Lucy knew how to do this in such a way that Levy experienced paradise breaking out over parts of her body constantly.

And it wasn't straight, either, because it was them. Levy would always be gay, and Lucy would always be Lucy. And sure, maybe Lucy had a dick on and was fucking her doggy-style, but those were Lucy's breasts against her ribcage—the nipples hard points that slid along her back, a sensation that tingled with excitement. This was them. This was special. This was theirs.

Levy's grunts and moans gave warning when she was about to come. With those ever-loving fingers, Lucy reached down and stroked around her clit, and that was it for Levy. She pressed her face into the couchback and yelled, stars bursting to life in the nebula of light that was her body. It rained through her, a shower of joy and satisfaction and contentment.

Behind her, Lucy was groaning softly too, mouth lying slack against Levy's skin in a lazy kiss.

"Touch yourself," Levy requested, wanting to feel it—wanting Lucy to come like this, standing there with her—inside her—in the same position that had brought Levy to completion.

Lucy obeyed, a hand slipping between them. Lucy was clearly turned on from everything they'd just done, because her pace was heavy, and less than a minute later she was gasping and leaning her weight on Levy. Their bodies moved in gentle time together like willows in the breeze.

"It's perfect," Levy said.

"Wh—What is?" Lucy panted.

"You. Goddess," Levy rubbed her face, "I don't even think I can talk."

She heard the breathy laugh and knew Lucy was grinning.

They slid apart and fell onto the sofa, Lucy unstrapping the dildo so she was in just her briefs. There was a visible spot of damp, which made Levy proud.

Naked, Levy found herself pulled against Lucy's side.

"Wanna watch something?" Lucy asked, nudging the remote.

"Yeah."

Lucy flipped on the TV and turned to Netflix. "L-Word?"

"Sure," Levy laughed. "How about that episode where Shane and Cherie get it on by the pool?"

"Hot. Which one is that?"

"Season 3, episode 5," Levy said.

"I love how you know that off of the top of your head."

"It's the sexiest scene in the show!"

"Mmm," Lucy hummed, pressing play.

And who knew: maybe it would inspire another session…

Levy curled a hand around Lucy's thigh as Lucy cuddled around her back. As the opening played, Lucy bent in close to her ear.

"I needed that," Lucy murmured. "I kinda needed to remember that I don't need a dick and I can be feminine—or not—and that I'm still me regardless and I still know how to do this."

"Goddess, you really do know how."

Smiling serenely, Lucy kissed her ear and Levy let out a happy sigh.

Sexuality is a fluid thing. Levy McGarden was attracted to women. She was also attracted to Lucy. Even if sometimes Lucy wasn't sure she was a _she_ , those two facts about Levy didn't have to conflict.

There was room for it to be both happy and complicated. That was life, wasn't it?

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay but really, that episode of the L Word. *coughs*


End file.
